


Until the Fat Lady Sings

by PatL



Category: Starsky and Hutch - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-10-13
Updated: 2004-10-13
Packaged: 2017-10-08 22:12:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/80020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatL/pseuds/PatL
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A trip to the doctor for a checkup turns into a nightmare for the two detectives. Could Hutch really have AIDS?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until the Fat Lady Sings

Bay City-1985

 

The last few weeks had been grueling for both of them. Hell, the last few years hadn't been easy. Things hadn't been that great before Gunther, but afterwards, it just seemed to get worse. For a while, it didn't look like Starsky would ever get back on the street. When he did, it didn't take them long to find out that the spark was gone. Somehow, the lure of catching the bad guys just wasn't that strong, and the good guys didn't seem to win as often as they did before.   
They tried a lot of things to make life easier, and it worked for a while. Since Starsky had spent so much time at Hutch's apartment while he was recovering from his brush with death, it seemed only reasonable to let his apartment go and move in with Hutch permanently. When the tenant across from Hutch moved out, the two detectives pooled their resources and bought the apartment, turning two small apartments into one spacious one. Venice Place was their island in a stormy sea of drugs, murder and death. Unfortunately, Fate didn't always play nice, and even the walls of their home couldn't keep reality out.  
They'd thought many times about getting off the streets. Maybe it was time. Let the young stallions and fillies crawl down the sewers for a while. They'd done it for too long. They were both tired, so it wasn't surprising that one of them would get sick. At first, they thought it was just a bad cold. But when the cough just wouldn't go away, Starsky finally convinced his partner to go to the doctor. Of course, Hutch grumbled the whole time.   
"Starsky, I'm feeling better, I really am." Hutch turned away, doing his best to cover the next cough. "Why do I have to waste my time, and Doctor Henry's?"  
The curly-haired detective shook his head adamantly. "You've had that cold long enough, Hutch. You've been up for the last three nights with that cough, and I can tell you've lost weight. You haven't been eating anything solid, and that junk you drink in the mornings doesn't count. Now, shut up and go. I'm supposed to go over my testimony with the DA for the Lander's case, but if you need me to come along and hold your hand, I'll try to reschedule."  
"I'm not a child. I can go by myself."  
So Hutch had kept his doctor's appointment while Starsky spent the afternoon with Bay City's newest District Attorney. As Starsky drove home, he scowled to himself. Working with Don Samuels was like trying to dance the Hula to Polka music. The two simply weren't in sync. He was more than happy to get back to Venice Place and unwind. The blond was in the kitchen, making dinner when he got home.  
"Hey, how did your appointment go? What did Dr. Henry have to say?"  
Hutch shook the long-handled spoon he was stirring the spaghetti sauce with at his partner. "I told you he'd make a mountain out of a molehill. He said that my lungs sounded a little congested and my glands looked like they were swollen a bit, so he made me go all the way to County General and give the lab about a gallon of blood so they could run some tests. He said he'd call me tomorrow with the results." He stirred the sauce then put the spoon down. "It's a racket, Starsky. You go in for a simple head cold, and everyone sees dollar signs in your eyes. Tomorrow he'll call me and say everything is fine, give me some medicine and charge me another fifty bucks. I could have stayed in bed and saved myself the money, and gotten well just as fast."  
Starsky walked past Hutch and picked up the spoon, tasting the sauce. "Oh, stop your bellyaching and let's get dinner on the table. I'm starved. You know that cold wasn't getting any better. If you need antibiotics, then so be it. And if he needs to give you a shot in your ass, you'll drop your pants and bend over. You got that, partner?"  
Hutch grinned mischievously. "Only if you'll promise not to kiss it and make it better."  
So they ate dinner and played a game of Monopoly before going to bed, and the next morning, they went into the station just as they had for almost fifteen years. Dr. Henry and the blood tests were almost forgotten until Hutch answered the phone later that day.  
The doctor's voice didn't leave any room for procrastination. "Sergeant Hutchinson, the results of your blood work are in. I need to see you in my office, immediately."  
Hutch tried to cover his nervousness by acting casual. "I'm due in court this afternoon, Doc. Can't it wait until tomorrow?"  
"No, it can't. I'll see you in my office, in one hour, Sergeant."  
Hutch replaced the receiver slowly then conjured up a brave face for his partner. Starsky had heard his end of the conversation, so there was no use trying to lie. "He probably wants to tell me that I have iron-poor blood or something. You think you can handle Samuels on your own, without getting yourself suspended?"  
"I think I can manage. I wish I could go with you, though."  
Hutch took his jacket from the back of his chair. "I'll be okay. You go on to court and I'll meet you back at the apartment." He stopped a few feet away. "Hey, don't worry. It's probably nothing."  
Starsky watched Hutch walk out the door. Yeah, it's probably nothing.  
Twenty minutes later, Hutch was sitting stiffly in Dr. Henry's reception room. The doctor came out and motioned for him, stopping at the receptionist's desk briefly.  
"Hold my calls, Delores."  
Once inside the office, Dr. Henry waved at a seat. "Sit down, Ken." When Hutch did as he was told, Dr. Henry sat back in his chair. "As I told you on the phone, we have the results from the tests we ran yesterday. We've found something that concerns me greatly. Have you ever heard of human immunodeficiency virus, or acquired immunodeficiency syndrome?"  
Hutch's mind stumbled over the medical terms. "I'm not sure. I think I might have read something about it."  
"We've only discovered it recently. The virus is commonly referred to as HIV. The disease is called AIDS. We believe it originated in Africa, and we're starting to worry that it might spread in epidemic proportions that would rival the Black Plague very soon. In layman's terms, the virus attacks the blood, destroying your immune system. That leaves you extremely susceptible to infections, and serious illnesses like pneumonia. We believe that the virus can lay dormant for up to ten years before it progresses to full-blown AIDS. Unfortunately, we have a lot to learn yet about the disease. The one thing we are certain about is it can be transmitted from one person to another under the right conditions."  
Hutch thought about what Dr. Henry had said. He had to clear his throat before he could ask the question most on his mind. "Is there a cure?"  
Dr. Henry shook his head gently. "No, there isn't." He spoke softly. "I'm sorry, Ken. Your blood sample tested positive for HIV. You have AIDS."  
The words hit him in the stomach like a fist. "How long have I got?"  
"That depends on your overall physical condition. It could be anywhere from a few months to a year, or possibly two. There are some experimental drugs out right now that could possibly slow the progression of the disease. We'll have to do some more tests. The screening is aggressive because the drugs are not without side effects. You seem to be in good shape, considering, so it might be wise to put off the drugs for a while. I have to ask you some questions now, Ken. They'll be intensely personal, but it's imperative that you tell me the truth. Anything you say is confidential. Your identity will never be released to the media."  
"All right, what do you want to know?"  
Dr. Henry pulled a pad of paper closer to him and took a pencil out of the holder on his desk. "When you have sexual intercourse, do you wear a condom?"  
Hutch remembered all of the women in his life. Vanessa was on the pill, almost from the day they met, so he never thought about protection. But Vanessa was what his mother referred to as a "good girl". She wasn't promiscuous. Then he thought of Jeannie, and remembered something Forest had said to her when they arrested him. *"Tell him about Vegas, Jeannie. Tell him what you were. Do you think he'll still want you then?" *Was Jeannie a prostitute? Knowing Forest and the environment in which he operated, it was entirely possible. Then Hutch nearly groaned out loud. Gillian, there was no doubt where Gillian was concerned. How many men had she sold herself to before they met, and after? Hutch didn't think a John would worry about protection, and Gillian never made a point of asking for it, either.   
He fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair. "Uh, sometimes."  
"But not all of the time."  
"No."  
Dr. Henry wrote on the pad then looked back at Hutch. "Detective, are you aware that every time you have unprotected sex, you are also having sex with every other person your partner has had sex with in the past?"  
Hutch's head filled with the image of his full-size bed, crammed with nude men and women. Somehow, the picture was more terrifying than amusing.  
Dr. Henry gave the blond some time to compose himself before asking his next question. "Have you ever received a blood transfusion?"  
"Yeah, I was shot a few years ago. I think they said I needed two units of blood." "I see. Is that the only time you required a transfusion?"  
"Yes. No, wait a minute. I was in a car accident before that, and my leg was broken in several places. I'm not sure if I needed blood during the surgery or not."  
"Hmmm, well, it doesn't matter. Unfortunately, one of the ways the virus is spread is through tainted blood. Now, for my final question, and this is very important. Have you ever used intravenous drugs?"  
Hutch started to speak then stopped. Mentally, he shrugged. Why shouldn't he tell the truth? Keeping his secret now was a moot point. "Yes. A long time ago, I was kidnapped. They wanted information, so I was forcibly addicted to heroin. It…happened over about four days."  
"I see. And you have no idea if a new needle was used each time?"  
Hutch snorted sarcastically. "After it was over, they stuck me in the back seat of a car and were planning on dumping me in the bay. I don't think using sterile needles was high on their list of priorities."  
"I don't suppose it was. But you were addicted against your will. There isn't anything you could have done to avoid it. Are you in a relationship now, Ken?"  
Hutch shook his head briefly. "I haven't been with anyone for a while."  
"All right, I'll tell you what you should do. Make a list of the women you've been intimate with and let them know what's going on. At the very least, they should be tested for HIV."  
Hutch gulped. "Do you mean all of them?"  
"Well, I would notify the most recent women, anyway. I assume you've never been in a homosexual relationship?" When Hutch shook his head, Dr. Henry continued. "I would say you contracted the virus either by the needles used by your kidnappers, or the blood you received through transfusion when you were shot was tainted. I know warning every woman you've been intimate with sounds like a daunting task, but the most common way the virus is transmitted is through bodily fluids. That includes semen as well as blood. Whenever you had sexual intercourse without using a condom, you were unknowingly putting the women in your life at risk."  
Hutch felt a chill course through his body. "Wait a minute. Are you telling me that I could give someone AIDS if they got some of my blood on them?"  
"If the person touching you had an open wound, it's possible. Even a small cut would give the virus a way to enter their bloodstream. That's why we're currently trying to pass a regulation requiring all healthcare professionals, firemen, and police officers to wear gloves whenever they come in contact with any body fluids. This disease can affect everyone, Detective. You don't have to be gay to get it."  
Hutch thought of Starsky, and the times they'd held each other when they were hurt. He barely got out the words. "I have a partner. We've been together for a long time. We've both been injured on the job, and Starsky's probably had more of my blood on him than I have."  
Dr. Henry exhaled slowly. "Then I want him at County General first thing in the morning. He has to be tested, now. I won't say that he's definitely infected, but I know you don't want to take the chance that he is. I want you to go in, too. The lab can draw some more blood and run those tests I was telling you about earlier."  
He stood up and came around the desk. "I know this is a lot to digest at once, Ken. I wish the news had been better. Talk to your partner, tell him what I said, and get him in here as soon as possible. Will I see you tomorrow?"  
"Yeah, Doc, we'll see you tomorrow."

Starsky turned the radio down in the Torino as he drove home. He was thankful the long day was finally over, and the last thing he wanted to hear was the chatter of the police radio. Although the Landers case was cut and dry, Don Samuels seemed more interested in his public image than putting a known drug dealer in prison. His testimony should have taken thirty minutes, tops. Instead, Samuels went over and over every tiny piece of information, preening for the jury the whole time, until Starsky was ready to strangle him. Now, all Starsky wanted to do was take a hot shower, eat, and kick back for a while. Then the phone call from Dr. Henry came back to him, and he added another task to his list. He wanted to know what was so important that Hutch had to drop everything and run. It can't be anything serious. It can't be.  
When he unlocked the door to Venice Place, the blond was nowhere to be seen. Starsky walked through the living room and kitchen, and peeked into the bedroom. Hutch wasn't in any of the rooms. He started back to the bathroom when he saw a blond head amidst the plants in the greenhouse.   
"Hutch? What are you doing out here? What did Dr. Henry say?"  
The blond wouldn't turn around and look at him. He stayed on the small bench and simply stared out over the balcony. Starsky felt the first stirrings of fear and sat down close to his partner.  
"Hutch, what did the doctor say? Talk to me, buddy. What's wrong?"  
Hutch's voice was so low that Starsky had to bend close to him to hear. "I have AIDS, Starsky."  
*AIDS, what the Hell is AIDS?* He started to say that he'd never heard of it, but then remembered an article he'd read recently. Of all places to read a magazine, Starsky had been at the morgue, waiting for the ME to finish an autopsy and had thumbed through a medical journal that was sitting on Delaney's desk. Most of it had been too technical to understand, but the one part Starsky remembered was this new disease was incurable. And it sounded like a horrible way to die.   
Starsky was shaking his head almost before the thought formed in his mind. "No."  
Hutch moved an inch away from the brunet. "They found the virus that causes AIDS in my blood. The doctor said I tested positive for HIV. He said I could have been carrying the virus for as long as ten years."  
Starsky tried to touch the blond but couldn't make his hands move. "There has to be some mistake."  
"No, there's no mistake. AIDS is transmitted by unprotected sex, tainted blood used in transfusions, and the use of dirty needles. All three of those factors apply to me." Finally, he turned to Starsky, a travesty of a grin on his face. "Ding, ding, ding, I win the kewpie doll."  
Starsky ran his tongue over suddenly parched lips. "Did he say…how long?"  
"He said it could be a few months, a year, or maybe even two years. There are some experimental drugs he wants to try when the time is right. He says they could slow down the progression of the disease."  
Finally, Starsky took control of his faculties. He reached over and laid a hand on Hutch's arm. "I don't know what to say, buddy. I still can't believe what I'm hearing."  
Hutch shrugged off Starsky's hand and moved farther away. "Don't touch me."  
"Hutch, no, I won't let this come between us."  
He moved closer and tried to put his arm around Hutch, but the blond jumped up and stalked into the kitchen.  
Starsky followed him. "Hutch, please, don't shut me out. We'll work through this somehow."   
The blond shoved him away. "Didn't you hear anything I said? I have AIDS, Starsky! I got it from Monk, or from Gillian, or from the blood I got when I was shot. Take your pick, partner. Remember when I was shot, and you tried to stop the bleeding? If you had just a tiny little cut on your hand, you could be infected, too. I don't want to be responsible for your death, Starsky. I couldn't take that."  
The sound that came from Starsky was between a moan and a shout as he threw both arms around Hutch and pulled him close. He held him in a giant bear hug, pinning Hutch's arms with his own. The two men stood in the middle of the room locked in a surreal combat. Finally, the blond stopped struggling and went limp, leaning on Starsky for support.  
His voice pleaded with the brunet. "Please let me go. I don't want to hurt you. Stay away from me, Starsky! I'm a walking death sentence to you."  
Starsky didn't try to stop the tears streaming down his face. "Do you think I care? I may not have been kidnapped and addicted like you were, but I've been shot, too. Did you stop to put gloves on when I was bleeding on the floor of that restaurant? No, of course you didn't. The only thing you cared about was taking care of me. And how many women do you think I've been with since then? I'm just as much at risk as you are. In case you don't remember, I was shot years before you were. Who says I didn't give it to you? You're not going to carry the load for this one by yourself, Hutch. We're in this together."   
He could feel the wetness on his shirt as Hutch laid his head on his shoulder. The voice he heard didn't even sound like the man he knew.   
"I'm going to die, Starsky. I never thought it would end like this. Please, I don't want you to die, too."  
Starsky held Hutch's face between his hands and tried to smile. "It ain't over until the fat lady sings, buddy. You can push me away as much as you want, and I'll still keep coming back. You might as well face the fact that you're stuck with me."  
Hutch smiled briefly through his tears then sniffed. "Dr. Henry says you have to go in tomorrow and get tested. He said there's a possibility that you're already infected. I have to go in for some more tests and I said you'd come with me."  
"OK, we'll go in first thing in the morning. Tonight, we're going to rustle up something to eat and get a good night's sleep."  
"I don't even want to think about eating."  
Starsky hugged him again, relieved when he didn't try to pull away. "Hey, we gotta keep our strength up. I know it won't be easy, but you have to eat something."  
"OK, I'll try."  
The next morning, they went back to County General Hospital. Hutch stood quietly by while the lab technician drew three vials of Starsky's blood then gave more of his own. They stood close together, giving each other strength. Let people look, Starsky thought. I don't give a damn what they think any more. When they walked back to the Torino and climbed inside, Starsky put an arm around Hutch and pulled him close. They sat there for a while, lost in their thoughts.   
Finally, Hutch stirred. "We have to tell Dobey. He has the right to know."  
Starsky shook his head. "I don't want to deal with Dobey right now. There'll be time enough to tell him when we get my results back. Let's just go home, okay?"  
They drove home in a fog of despair, neither man voicing what was on his mind. Grief hung like a pall as they climbed the stairs to their apartment. They'd only been there for a few hours when Starsky made a decision.  
He turned to Hutch. "We gotta get out of here, Hutch. We can't stay here forever, hiding from the rest of the world. We haven't done anything wrong."  
"Where do you want to go?"  
"Somewhere quiet, away from this Hell hole of a city. I'll go ask Huggy. He'll think of a place."  
Hutch put his head down. "Are you going to tell him?"  
Starsky walked over and squeezed Hutch's shoulder. "He's a friend, Hutch. He stuck with us through the long haul." He put a finger under Hutch's chin and raised his head. "It's not gonna make a difference to him. You don't have anything to be ashamed of, understand?"  
"I know, but I can't face him, Starsky, not yet."  
Starsky nodded and patted him on the stomach. "OK, you stay here. I'll be back soon. Then we'll go out for a bite to eat, your choice. I'll even pick up the tab."  
Hutch grinned briefly. "Well that's a first. Go on, tell Huggy to find us somewhere nice. I'll be ready when you get back."  
When Starsky told Huggy, the black proprietor of The Pits had to lean against the bar for support.   
"Oh, my God, not Hutch, too."  
"What do you mean, Huggy?"  
Huggy drew two beers from the tap and came around the bar. He headed for a booth in the back, motioning with his head for Starsky to follow. After they were seated, Huggy took a big drink from his mug.  
"Do you remember Sugar?"  
"Yeah, he's that female impersonator from the Green Parrot. What about him?"  
"One of the men he was intimate with was just diagnosed with AIDS. Sugar is terrified that he'll be next. Now it's going to take Hutch, too. Word on the street is this is one bad disease. It's hard to believe we only heard of it recently."  
Starsky nodded in agreement. "According to Dr. Henry, you can get it from unprotected sex, dirty needles and bad blood. So this isn't just a disease homosexuals and drug addicts get. How many people in this country had blood transfusions in the past ten years?"  
"I don't even want to guess. So, how's Hutch taking this? I know that's a ridiculous question, but I know my blond brother. The guilt is probably eating him alive as we speak."  
"Yeah, and the fact that I could be infected, too, isn't helping. I had to get tested this morning. Dr. Henry promised he'd call as soon as the results were in."  
Huggy laid both his hands on Starsky's. "Tell me what I can do."  
"We need a place to go, Hug, somewhere peaceful, away from nosy neighbors and prying eyes."  
"How long are you planning to be gone?"  
Starsky gave him a crooked smile. "Right now, forever sounds pretty good to me. Once we tell Dobey about this, our careers are over. I want to spend the rest of my life with Hutch, taking care of him as long as I'm able."  
"Then go back to your other half and let Huggy do his thing. I'll call you in a few hours."  
"Thanks, Huggy. I don't know what we'd do without you."  
Huggy couldn't stop the heartache as he watched Starsky walk out the door. "I know what you mean, 'bro. Now tell me what I'm gonna do without you and Hutch."  
Starsky drove back to Venice Place and let himself back into the apartment quietly. He didn't see Hutch until he walked into the bedroom. When he did, his heart leaped up into his throat. The blond was sitting on the bed, his fingers wrapped around the butt of his .357 Magnum. Starsky approached him slowly so he wouldn't startle Hutch. Gently, he sat down on the bed next to his friend.  
"Hutch?"  
Hutch looked down at the gun in his hands. "I couldn't do it. I wanted to, but I couldn't."  
Starsky took the gun out of Hutch's hands and started to throw it across the room. At the last second, he realized what he was doing and laid it on the nightstand instead. Then he turned and held Hutch by his shoulders.  
"Don't do that! You're the best friend I have in the whole world. I don't know how I'm going to make it without you. I want to spend every minute, every second that you have left with you. Damn it, don't you dare take that away from me!"  
Hutch sobbed once then fell against him. He put his arms around Starsky's neck. "I'm scared, Starsk, and I don't know what to do."  
Starsky moved to the head of the bed and leaned against the wall, pulling Hutch with him. "I know, babe. I'm scared, too."  
Hutch drew back and gazed in his friend's eyes. "Please don't leave me, Starsky."  
Starsky closed his eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks, and pulled Hutch closer. "I'm not going anywhere. We're gonna face this the same way we've faced every other rotten obstacle life has thrown at us: together."  
They stayed that way, talking about the future until exhaustion overcame them, and then they fell asleep. The strident sound of the phone ringing woke Starsky up. He snatched it up quickly then glanced at Hutch. The blond was still sleeping.  
"Starsky."  
"Sergeant, this is Dr. Henry. We have the results of your blood test. I'm sorry it took so long, but we ran them three times. Your blood test was negative, David!"  
A feeling of elation swept through him, immediately followed by a bone-crushing grief. He would live, but he would still watch Hutch die. *I don't think I can do this, Hutch. I don't want to be the one left behind.*  
"David, are you still there?"  
"Yeah, I'm here, Doc. Thanks for letting me know."  
"Wait, don't hang up! There's more. We ran the second blood sample that Ken gave us, and it tested negative, too!"  
"WHAT?"  
"I can't explain it, but when your results were negative; I had a hunch, and had the lab run Ken's samples immediately. There was absolutely no sign of the virus in his blood."  
Starsky wanted to shout out loud. "But how can that be?"  
"There has to be some mistake. Listen, I'm still at the hospital. I know it's early, but I want you both back down here, right now. We need to take more blood and run the tests again."  
"You got it, Doc. We're on our way." Starsky dropped the receiver on the hook then shook Hutch's shoulders. "Wake up, Hutch! We gotta go downtown right away!"  
Hutch sat up slowly. "Starsky, what's going on?"  
"Hutch, you aren't going to believe this! Dr. Henry just called. We both tested negative!"  
"What? I don't understand. Are you sure?"  
"Yeah. Doc Henry said they ran the tests several times. He wants us to come to the hospital so they can take some more blood. You know, this is one time I won't mind being Sunday dinner for a bunch of vampires."  
Hutch stared at the brunet, wanting, but not daring to believe. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go!"  
Dr. Henry was waiting for them. He stood over the lab tech as she took a vial of blood from Starsky first, then Hutch. He turned to the two men.  
"I'm going to observe the entire testing process this time, so we can verify the validity of the results. Ms. Butler can show you to the waiting room."  
They followed a young aide down the hall to a small room. She smiled at them. "You'll have some privacy here. Dr. Henry will come and get you as soon as the tests are complete."  
Starsky gave her a small smile and closed the door behind her. In the corner of the room, a TV was on, but neither man paid attention to it. Instead, they simply sat close together on the small love seat. Starsky thought he'd never prayed so hard in his entire life.  
After what seemed like an eternity later, Dr. Henry opened the door and breezed into the room, grinning from ear to ear.  
"The results are in. Congratulations, Detectives. Both tests are negative, again. You do NOT have AIDS."  
Hutch laughed, lifting Starsky off the floor and swinging him around in his arms. Then he sobered and turned back to the doctor.  
"I don't understand, Doctor. What happened?"  
Dr. Henry sat down on a leather chair and motioned for the two detectives to sit across from him.  
"As much as we try to prevent it, mistakes do happen. Although, in this instance, I have a suspicion that this wasn't a mistake."   
Starsky sat forward. "Are you telling me that someone did this deliberately? How?"  
Dr. Henry stood up. "Follow me, Detectives. There's something I want to show you."  
He led them back to the lab then disappeared behind a wooden door. When he came back, he was holding a glass vial in his hand.  
"This is from the first round of samples that we took from Ken. We keep them as a control for other tests. Look closely at the vial, Detective Starsky."  
Starsky took the glass tube from him and looked it over. He frowned and handed it back to the doctor.  
"It looks okay to me."  
Dr. Henry shook his head then took a tiny pair of tweezers from his shirt pocket. "Look at the label, David." He used the tweezers to pull up the corner of the label. "There's another label under this one."  
Starsky scrutinized the tube again, and this time he could see the tip of a second piece of paper. He straightened up, scowling fiercely. "I see it now. This blood isn't Hutch's, is it?"  
"No, it's not."  
Hutch cursed fluently. "I want to see a list of all employees in this department, Doctor. If we have to get a warrant, we will."  
Dr. Henry shook his head once. "That won't be necessary, Ken. I want to get to the bottom of this as much as you do. I'll have it for you in ten minutes."  
Hutch watched him disappear behind the wooden door again then turned back to Starsky. For a moment, he was serious then he laughed out loud and hugged the brunet.  
"We're not going to die, Starsky! Isn't that the greatest news you've ever heard?"  
"You bet it is, partner. If I never believed in miracles, I do now."  
Exactly ten minutes later, Dr. Henry returned and gave a single piece of paper to Hutch. Starsky looked over his shoulder at the list of names. None were familiar until they neared the end of the page. Two pairs of blue eyes met in amazement then Hutch said the name aloud.  
"Kevin Crabtree. Oh, my God, he's Abby's brother!"  
Starsky rubbed his jaw. "But why would he do something like this?"  
For the first time in days, Hutch's eyes blazed with determination. "I don't know, but I'm sure as Hell going to ask him." He turned to Dr. Henry. "We need Kevin Crabtree's address, Doctor, ASAP."  
Ten minutes later, they knocked on the door of a small apartment a few blocks from the hospital. As soon as Kevin saw them, he turned around and walked back into the living room without saying a word.  
Hutch stood in the middle of the room and gazed at the younger man. "Why, Kevin? Why did you do something this despicable?"  
Kevin spun around and glared at Hutch. "How can you ask me that question, after what you did to Abby? You broke her heart, Hutch! Do you know how many nights I listened to her cry herself to sleep after she left you? But that's nothing compared to what that monster did to her. She was in therapy for two years before the nightmares stopped. She couldn't stand to be alone, and she wouldn't answer the door when someone knocked. She's fine now, thank God. She's married to a really nice guy and is expecting their first baby. But I swore that if I ever had the chance, I'd make you pay for all the Hell you put her through." He sneered at Hutch. "When I saw your name on that test tube, I couldn't believe my luck. I had no idea why they were running tests, but I had just finished testing another sample for HIV. The tests are relatively new, so I'm one of the few techs that can run them. I just printed out another label with your name on it and put it over the other one. I let Dr. Henry do the rest."  
Starsky took a step toward Kevin, his fists clenched. "Do you know what you almost did? They were going to give experimental drugs to Hutch. Have you got any idea what those drugs would do to a healthy man?"  
"Nope, but it would have been interesting to find out. Too bad we'll never get the chance."  
Starsky lunged for Kevin, but Hutch stopped him. With a pitying look at the younger man, he shook his head at his partner.   
"Let it go, Starsky. He's not worth it. We'll let the law deal with him now. Come on; let's go home."  
They passed two uniformed officers on the way out. Starsky jerked at thumb toward Kevin's apartment. "Book him for attempt to deceive, falsifying medical documents and malicious mischief. Tell Dobey we'll explain later."  
"You got it, Starsky."

That night, they celebrated with a dinner for two in Venice Place. Huggy contributed by sending over stuffed veal and a bottle of his best champagne. All of the phone calls had been made, and everyone knew about the false test results, but tonight was just for them. Starsky looked over at his partner and smiled gratefully as he thought about Dr. Henry's final words.  
"You're run down, Ken. You've been working too hard, not getting enough sleep, and your diet is atrocious. If you don't start taking better care of yourself, you'll be at risk for more bouts of bronchitis, pneumonia, and a whole gamut of health problems. As horrible as this whole nightmare has been for you, I want you to consider it a wake-up call. I'm going to give you some vitamins, a sensible diet to follow, and I want to you to get a solid eight hours' sleep every night. I'm sure David will agree that he wants you around for a long time to come."  
He was snapped back to the present by a glass of wine passing under his nose.   
"Earth to Starsky. Where have you been, partner?"  
Starsky smiled as he took the glass. "I was just thinking about what Dr. Henry said." He raised the glass. "Here's to good health, and best friends. You mean more to me than anyone else in the world, Hutch. Whatever we do, wherever we go, the only place I want to be is by your side. As long as we're together, we can face anything. And when that fat lady does sing, we'll have each other to lean on, just like now."  
Hutch tapped Starsky's glass with his. "Hear, hear, buddy. Me and thee, forever."

 

The End  
Pat L.  
September 26, 2004  
USA


End file.
